


Mr. and Mr. Colbert

by ymagor



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Brad has an actual sword and know show to use it, Double Life, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Smith-inspired, Undercover, problematic language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25745923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymagor/pseuds/ymagor
Summary: Brad and Ray as Mr. and Mr. Colbert, Mr. and Mrs. Smith-style."Brad, I just wanna remind you before I fucking blow your head off that Jews don't have the same concept of heaven, so you better fucking watch your tone before you address me, motherfucker."
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Mr. and Mr. Colbert

"What the fuck, Colbert?! What the fucking fuck?"

"Ray, put the gun down and we can talk."

"Put down the gun?! You put down your stupid ass fucking sword first, you dumb shit! I cannot believe this, I **cannot** believe this! You said you wanted that sword for _decor_ , and now you're trying to fucking kill me with it. I bought that shit for you for our anniversary, dude!"

"I'm not putting down the sword because you're pointing a gun to my face, you incessant piece of hillbilly piss shit."

"Well, that's one way to talk to your husband, huh?" Ray reaches behind him and pulls out another gun. "How do you like me now, motherfucker?"

This is **not** going well.

\- 

Brad's parents are happily married and picturesque. They have a nice modern house with nice homely furniture, and they always insist on eating together - kosher and all that shit. They had a Labrador, and when he passed away (Georgie, God bless his soul), they got another Labrador (Albie, another good boy. They're very consistently eccentric, and consistently loving, and, to be honest, Brad craves that shit. 

Sure, he kills people for a living, can't feel six of his fingers, and has had more bones fractured than he can care to count; but that's exactly why he wants that loving home good stuff. More specifically, he wants that with Ray.

Ray is good to him, good for him. He's a dumb piece of shit who knows no concept of having a filter and Ray certainly doesn't have any sense of propriety, but he's amazing. Ray buzzes of what Walt would call "crackhead energy," and in the constant chaos of Brad's chosen profession and manicured life, having another one of those buzzes wouldn't be a problem. Two negatives make a positive.

He knows how to handle Ray, Ray knows how to let Brad handle him. 

And that's exactly why Brad asks Ray to marry him right after he has fucked the daylights out of him. He's known for Ray for four months, fourteen days, and 33 minutes. Ray's a fucking ball of energy all the time with some questionable kinks, but Brad's persevering. He goes for hours, and when they're done, Ray, the absolute fucking unit that he is, has the gall to say, "shit, dude. I just got some. Did you get some?"

He tires Ray out some more in bed. ("Jesus Christ, Brad! Do you ever fucking get tired, dude? Holy fuck. Do that thing again with your tongue.) When Brad's certain that they're done, he drinks a glass of water he's already prepared in advanced.

"Marry me." Not necessarily a question, Brad knows, but it's not as if Ray would say no. And he is proven correct (because he _is_ always correct) when Ray, fucked-dumb and already ready to sleep and possibly droll on his own pillow and Brad's, says: 

"K, now shut up."

-

They get married four weeks after in Vegas. Ray loves Elvis (young Elvis, not faded-out Elvis). He's wearing the most ridiculous gold-rimmed glasses that make him look like a bug. Brad's dad loves it, his mom loves Ray already after meeting him three weeks prior.

They do the ceremony, half of the room with Ray's bucktooth family and questionable coworkers on one side, Brad's alarmingly soft parents and own questionable coworkers on the other.

They walk to the reception at the hotel next door and Ray dances to a bunch of _Earth, Wind, and Fire_ songs with his mom and his very single, very obvious aunt. The booze is free-flowing, and Ray's mom and step-father have made residence there. The party is pretty okay, Brad supposes. Not everyone is invited, and he's content with the ones he did. 

"Hey, man. I know you've already said yes and shit, dog, but damn you sure about this one?" Poke likes to get into everyone's business, and that's why he's Brad's handpicked second-in-command (but that sounds corny as fuck, and Poke's doesn't like being referred to as Brad's assistant). He's perfect for the quote-end-quote business, not so much when he's up Brad's ass. 

Brad levels with Poke as much as he can and crouches to meet his eyes directly. Brad raises an eyebrow to counter him.

"Don't insult me, motherfucker, I will cut your throat." All bark, no bite, but Poke doesn't back down. "Don't want your twink husband to be a widower 2 hours into the marriage, would you?"

Brad doesn't break eye contact and so does Poke. It makes Brad smirk and it's genuine, it reaches his eyes. "Fucking gross," Poke remarks when he turns back to watch the dance floor. Brad does the same and sees his aunt smacking Ray's ass, and Ray plays scandalous with a gasp while shaking his ass closer.

"Poke, as much as I appreciate your concern about the well-being my married life with my husband, the question of his sanity matching my own has already been addressed. I've done a background check on him extensively, and aside from the possible birth defects acquired through the generations' worth of inbreeding in his very small, very white town, he's perfect." Brad decides to share more because he knows Poke will probably look into Ray later, if he hasn't yet. "He's a mechanical engineer for a construction firm that operates internationally, and he doesn't ask too many questions, unlike you. The questions now should be: is Gina sure about you?"  
  
Poke makes a non-committal grunt before chugging the rest of his beer. 

Mike "Gunny" Wynn walks over with a one-sided smile. "Congratulations, Brad. You've bag a good one." Poke rolls his eyes and comments something about white boys. "Kid's funny and smart."

"He's the one who's gotten lucky."

Gunny laughs heartily, Poke just rolls his eyes again. Gunny is a man of service and is always all-heart, but he's not called Gunny for no reason. "He dances well. Where did you meet this kid again?"

Brad, instead of answering, turns to Poke and says, "see, Poke? That's the kind of question you ask a newly-married man."

Gunny laughs again and Poke makes another comment, but Brad pays Poke no mind. 

"So, how'd you kids meet?"

**Author's Note:**

> Weeeeee I've never left this fandom and I absolutely love Brad and Ray. 
> 
> I don't know when I'll update again and how many updates will come, but I'm hoping on turning this into a 5 to 8-part fanfic. Weeee
> 
> Yall can come at me at ymagor.tumblr.com
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask!


End file.
